No More Auditions

Spent too long waiting for somebody else

to tell me who I am.

Fuck that.

Swipe right, dress right, say the right shit

Read signs, waistlines, measure my dick

Who’s staying? Who’s leaving? Who wants me tonight?

Whole fucking circus just to prove I’m alright

Check the mirror, scales, money in the bank

Watch on my wrist telling me where I rank

Good dad? Good man? Good body? Good life?

How many fucking boxes till I get it right?

She left — what’d I do?

She stayed — what does that prove?

She wants me — now I’m winning?

She ghosts — now I lose?

Standing under spotlights

Reading lines I didn’t write

Begging strangers for permission

To lead my own fucking life

Every finish line moved

Every mountain grew

Every time they said “you’re enough”

I found another test to do

Fire the casting director

Tear the script in fucking two

I’M DONE AUDITIONING

FOR A PART IN MY OWN FUCKING LIFE

I don’t need your yes

I don’t need your no

I don’t need your hands

To tell me what I know

NO MORE AUDITIONS

NO MORE STANDING IN THAT LIGHT

You don’t get to cast me

You don’t get to score me

I ALREADY GOT THE PART

’CAUSE THE FUCKING PART IS MINE

Now the phone lights up and the tables turn

Funny how attention makes old wounds burn

One wants more, one wants tonight

One disappears, another swipes right

One sees the body, one sees the brain

One likes pleasure, one likes pain

But none of their wanting tells me if I win

That’s just the old audition wearing new skin

Three women want me?

Feels fucking great — that’s true

But if I need their validation

I’m still asking them to choose

And an old ghost dances through my feed

Maybe she’s happy, maybe she’s bleeding

Maybe she’s searching, maybe she’s free

BUT NONE OF THAT GETS TO DEFINE ME

I can miss what was

Without wanting it again

Want somebody’s body

Without needing them to stay

Hear “I fucking want you”

And love every word they say

But I don’t hand them the pen anymore

And let them write my name

Her.

Them.

The mirror.

The scales.

The bank.

The apps.

The numbers on my wrist.

That voice at 3AM:

“Are you enough yet?”

SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.

NO JUDGES

NO SCORECARDS

NO PERMISSION

NO FUCKING AUDITION

I CAN LOVE YOU WITHOUT LOSING ME

I CAN WANT YOU WITHOUT NEEDING YOU

I CAN MISS YOU WITHOUT TURNING BACK

I CAN BE CHOSEN

WITHOUT NEEDING THAT

TO CHOOSE MYSELF

I’M DONE AUDITIONING

FOR A PART IN MY OWN FUCKING LIFE

Let them love me

Let them leave me

Let them get me fucking wrong

I’m still here

I’m still moving

I’ve been me all along

NO MORE AUDITIONS

NO APPROVAL REQUIRED

You don’t get to cast me

You don’t get to score me

I ALREADY GOT THE PART—

I wasn’t waiting for somebody to choose me.

I was waiting to choose myself.

The part was always mine.